


All That We Leave Behind

by MaybeAnotherTime



Category: American (US) Actor RPF, Chris Evans - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Depression, F/M, Implied abuse, Light Swearing, Lots of mentions of pie, Mentions of self-harm, Minor Character Death, Panic Attack, Rehab, Romance, Sad, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt, Tag as I Go Along, anxiety attack
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-06
Updated: 2018-05-22
Packaged: 2019-02-11 07:03:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12930024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaybeAnotherTime/pseuds/MaybeAnotherTime
Summary: Chris often wondered about you. Sometimes he would be in the middle of an interview and he would find himself thinking about you. He had so many questions. How have you been? What have you been up to all these years? What did you do for work? Did you have a boyfriend? Or were you married and have kids? Did you still laugh the way he remembered - with your head tilted back and so carefree? Did your eyes still twinkle with mischief the way it always did?But then he would think about how he walked away from you all those years ago. How he left you standing in the middle of the rain. How your eyes were so full of tears and anger that it still haunted him to this day.He couldn't get you out of his head no matter how hard he tried.He couldnt stop thinking about you no matter what he did.His mind would always go back to you, to the girl he left behind





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Wow.....I haven't written anything in so loooong. This is my first Chris Evans/You fic so please give me feedback! All are welcome! I hope you enjoy. :)

Chris lets out a sigh as he plugs his earbuds into his ear, quickly glancing at the plane window to his right. He was currently flying high above the clouds, having lifted off from LAX about an hour ago as it made it's way to Boston. Adjusting his NASA cap, Chris thumbs through his playlist, finally settling on a Guns'n'Roses song as he closes his eyes when the strum of guitar string starts.

The press tour schedule had been brutal and he was lucky to have the holidays with his family. With all the photoshoots and interviews, Chris was ready to have a relaxing time back in Boston. He couldn't wait to be back home to see everyone, especially Dodger. A small smile tugs the corner of his mouth as an image of Dodger and his crazy antics made him bite his lip to stifle to a chuckle. Two months without seeing his fluffy companion had him counting days, and seeing the number dwindle down was enough motivation to push him through the press tour. He couldn't wait to be home...he just wanted to be away from everything, from the cameras, from the paparazzi...

Since he didn't have any projects, shoots, or interviews in the next couple of months, Chris listed off different things he wanted to catch up on now that he was coming home. But first there was Thanksgiving to go through. His mom had mentioned having a few family friends over dinner as well as familiar faces like his nieces and nephews.

A familiar laughter pulls Chris out of his holiday plans, his eyes opening and widening. That laugh...it sounded so...familiar. As Chris stills, he waits for the sound again, his neck straining to hear the sound. A peal of laughter rings around the cabin room, but this time it's muffled behind a hand. An image of your youthful face, head thrown back in mid-laugh flashes behind his eyes and Chris shakes his head to clear it.

It was the same kind of laugh that you had. The kind that was contagious. And genuine. And unfiltered.

The thought of you coincidentally being on his flight perturbed him. It had been years since the last time the two of you conversed and it didn't end on a good note, Chris recalls. A series of what ifs and various scenarious zipped a million miles an hour in his head. What if it was you? What if you was you sitting across the aisle, laughing to your significant other? What if you didn't recognize him? What if you didn't remember him? What if-

Oh god. He hasn't seen you in so long...Chris's grip on the arm rest tightened, the sound of his heartbeat hammering in his ears. The only sure way to find out if it was you, was to take a peek. With a shaky breath, Chris slowly turned to find the source of laughter.

He let out a relieved sigh.

It was a random blonde woman who was discussing something about her vacation in LA with the flight attendant. As they conversed, he let a sigh of relief and went back to fiddling with phone.

Chris's brows furrowed as he continued to think about you. He swore it was you. It sounded just like you...He quickly glanced over to the blonde again just to make sure one last time.

This was always happening to him. His mind would always find a way to start wondering about you. It was actually happening more and more frequently, now that Chris thought about it.

He would be in mid shoot, or mid interview, when something..something would trigger a memory of you.

It would be something someone said - a word or a phrase and then he would remember a time in his childhood with you.

Sometimes it was something that he did, like running his hand through his hair and he would remember a time when, as kids, he would have his head on your lap as one of your hands carded through his hair and the other holding a book in front of you.

There it was again, the laughter. But this time Chris closes his eyes and imagines that it was you across the aisle instead, laughing. He sunk further in his chair, shoulder slumping as he shifts through his memories.

 

 

_You tilted your head backed and laughed, one arm clutched around your stomach and the other arm outstretched as you pointed at Chris._

_"Oh my God, Chris. Your hair." You snorted, trying to contain your laughter._

_Chris stuck his nose up in the air and crossed his arms. "It's the total rage right now, you know!"_

_You snorted again, "Yeah, if you're a loser!"_

_Chris growled, huffing in irritation. He had cut his hair the day before his first high-school yearbook picture and thought it was a good idea to have his mom do it. He totally thought he rocked it! The other kids in school had the same style. But all he could hear was your annoying giggle._

_"Is wittle Chwis mad?" You duck under his arm and let it drape over your shoulder as you wrap your arms around his torso. You give him your saddest pout, but he refused to look at you in the eye._

_Clasping your hands together, you whimpered like a kicked puppy. Finally, Chris cracks one eye open, looking down at your teary eye and bottom lip out for an innocent pout. You were so good at begging._

_He sighed as he ran a hand through his short hair. "Does it look that bad?"_

_With a lopsided smile, you shook your head and looked up to his bright blue eyes, a small flush decorating your cheeks. "No, it fits you actually."_

_Chris cocks his head, his voice full of enthusiasm. "you really think so?"_

_You step away from his warmth. "Yeah, a loser haircut to match the loser wearing it!"_

_And you tilted your head back and laughed, eyes twinkling with irrepressible mischief._

 

_....._

 

Chris's mouth widened to a grin at the memory. Most of his memoies of you were like that. Happy.

You were so carefree then...Chris wondered if you were still the same bubbly, smiling, happy-go-lucky person that gravitated you to him in the first place. He often wondered what you were up to now as he closed his eyes and slowly drifted off to sleep, the woman's laughter still echoing in his head.

 

.....

 

_You stood in front of him, drenched in the rain._

_The cold Boston rain was icy and it froze you to the bone, but nothing could compare to the hitch in your chest as you look up to Chris, your tears mixing in with the falling rain._

_Chris could feel the coldness of the rain and frowned when he saw your quiverring lip. He tried reaching out to you, but his body didn't respond. It was as if his body didn't belong to him and that he was watching a movie play in front of his own eyes with no control of his own body. He felt his jaw clench in anger._

_Why was he angry again? He glanced at you and his heart ached for you. You were clutching your arm to your chest as if protecting yourself...from what? The rain had drenched you to the bone, your hair sticking to your forehead and neck, your clothes clinging to your skin._

_How long have you been here? You say something to him, but it's muffled out by the rain and Chris strains to hear a word you're saying but all he could hear was the thunder rolling above him and the rain hitting the pavement_

_He reached out to you and you step back, shaking your head. His eyes travel from your shivering shoulders to your clenched jaw to the tears pooling in your eyes._

_He felt himself yelling at you, but he couldn't hear his own words. It sounded like he was underwater, his ears plugged by something._

_What was he saying?_

_He saw you retreat, your tears that were threatening to fall finally slip pass your eyes and roll over your cheeks, mixing in with the rain._

_You let out a sob. After then another and then another, and soon your whole body was quaking and it wasn't from the rain. Chris looked down at you, feeling a wave of pity wash over him. He wanted to scream at himself for letting you stand there alone, crying. But he felt his body move and start to turn away from you._

_He screamed at himself. 'No...no..what are you doing!? We have to help her!'_

_But Chris turns his back on you and starts to walk away, the rain drowning out everything._

 

_...._

 

Chris jolts awake, feeling his plane finally land on the tarmac. He furrow his brow, wondering how long he was out for.

Still hazy from his sleep, Chris could still feel the cold from the rain and the tightness in his chest was still there. He closes his eyes, only to see an image of you in tears and your body shaking from sobs flashing behind his eyes. Chris's hold on the arm rest tightens to the point of his knuckles turning white. It had been so long ago.

A pang of guilt washes over him, his chest heavy. He couldn't stop thinking about that moment. It pained him to relieve that memory. It was one of his biggest regrets.

Before he could delve deeper, the intercom beeps for an announcement.

"Ladies and gentleman, you are now free to unbuckle your seat belts. Please wait patiently as we start to deplane. Thank you again for riding with us, and have great stay in Boston!"

Stretching his hands overhead, Chris removes the earbuds, the music fading away to the chit chat in the airplane cabin. The sound of belts unbuckling dominoed around the cabin as others stretched in their seats. Chris pulls the phone from his pocket, unlocks it, and thumbs through his notifications.

Seeing a text from his mom, he quickly taps on the text and reads it.

_< You here, honey?>_

_Chris quickly types back a reply._

_< Yup! See you soon :).>_

Chris slips the phone back into his pocket, grabs the bag from under the seat, and waits his turn to deplane.

 

.......

 

"Hey, Ma." The door squeaks open and Chris immediately drops his bag to engulf his mom in a bear hug, giving her a loud kiss on the forehead.

Lisa lets out a laugh and slaps her son's shoulder playfully. She starts heading towards the kitchen as Chris picks up his bags and shuts the door. "Why don't you get settled in, take a shower, and rest up?"

Just as he spoke, a blur of red and white fur jumped on to Chris, tumbling him down to the floor.

He barely spoke get a word before Dodger greeted him with wet slobbering kisses.

"Dodg-" Chris let out a bellowing laugh, happy to be in the warmth of his home and the wet kisses from his favorite companion.

Lisa let out a laugh while shaking her head, making her way to the kitchen happy to have her son back home.


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the Kudos guys! If you have any feedback, please leave a comment! :) hope you like Chapter Two! We're getting closer and closer to a reunion between you and Chris. eeek!

Chris was in the middle of peeling potatoes for his mom when he hears the front door open, a smirk spreading across his face when he hears Scott's voice muffled through the wall. Setting the peeler down on the counter top and wiping his damp hands on a towel, Chris made his way to the living room.

Chris's footsteps slowed as he got nearer to the living room as he hears his brother's and mother's voice lowering to a whisper. He leans against the wall, ears perked up to catch their conversation.

"You have to tell him..."

Lisa let out a sigh. "I know...it's just...how's he going to take it?"

_Take what?_ He thought. His brows cinched close together, wondering what the hell they we're talking about. What were they hiding? Was it serious?

He heard some ruffling of fabric as Scott took off his coat.

"Ma...I really don't know. But it would be a good idea to give him a heads up just in case."

Not wanting to eavesdrop any longer, Chris cleared his throat and with feigned cheerfulness, he walked in to the living room.

"Scott!"

He briefly saw his mom's eyes widen as she shared a quick glance with Scott, who tried to evade her gaze.

"Hey shithead, how are ya?" Scott smirked and clapped a hand behind Chris's back in greeting.

Lisa rolls her eyes and mumbles something about getting ready to cook. Once his mom was out of earshot, Chris turned to Scott, narrowing his eyes accussingly and Scott immediatelly brought his hands up defensively.

"What were you and Ma talking about?" Chris's eyes narrowed further, curious.

Scot backed away towards the kitchen and mouthes, "Talk to Ma."

With that, he ducked away and left Chris standing alone in the living room, confused as to what was going on. He scratched his beard and wondered what his mom was holding back.

 

....

 

 

"Chris?"

Chris's ears perks up and glances away from the football game on the TV to look at his mom behind him.

"Can you help me with the pie?"

He sent his mom a quick nod as he turned off the TV and went towards the kitchen, Dodger following him with the clink of his tags.

Chris smiled, rubbing his companion's head with affection.

"What do you need me to do?"

Lisa walked around the kitchen with a bag of pie in one arm and cutting board in the other. "Cut these for me please."

Chris gives her quick nod and a comfortable silence blankets the kitchen. As Chris starts to cut the apples, he glances at his mom who was stirring cranberry sauce on the stove, hand on a hip.

He heard her let out a sigh.

"Anything wrong?"

Lisa cleared her throat. "Do you remember how you and (YN) would always dress up as pilgrims or turkeys during Thanksgiving when you were younger? I always thought it was cute, though it felt ridiculous eating Thanksgiving when your son is wearing a turkey costume."

Chris bursted out in laughter, remembering the memory of you in him wearing matching turkey costumes. "Oh man, I've forgotten about that! Got a kick from Dad."

Lisa chuckled, though the memory had been happy, she had a solemn look on her face that Chris immediately catches. Chris put the apples down and walked over, placing a hand on her back for comfort. He felt her shake with a sob.

"Ma..what's wrong?"

She looked up to him, "You remember (YN) right? You guys used to be joined in the hip since gradeschool. I've always liked her, treated her like my own...what ever happened between you? Do you two still talk?"

An image of you sobbing in the rain flashes in his head and he flinches as if he was burned. He hung his lead low and shook his head. "We had a falling out shortly before i moved to New York. I...I havent heard her since."

He walked away from Lisa, bracing himself on the kitchen counter. "I think it was my fault. It's been so long I don't remember what happened. All I know is that I hurt her and I walked away. And we havent talked since."

Chris turned to Lisa, his eyes muddled with hurt and guilt. Lisa's expression softened.

"Oh, honey..."

She rubbed his back and squeezed his shoulder.

"Why did you bring her up?"

Lisa stiffened, her face paling.

"You know how I told you that I will be inviting some people over for Thanksgiving?"

Lisa turns back to her cranberry sauce, stirring the pot as a distraction. Chris stayed quiet as if to encourage her to continue. Her shoulders slump and turns back to Chris, stress written on her face.

"I invited (YN) and her step family."

Chris eyes brows shot up. "...step family?"

Lisa nods and sighed. "She's not the same anymore, Chris. Something happened to her and she hasn't been the same...she's...she's..."

Tears welled up in her eyes. Chris reached to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and pulling her in for a hug. He heard her sniffle into his sweater and he dropped a kiss on top of her head. As he rubbed circles on her back, Chris pulled away slightly, his brows cinching together.

"Ma..what do you mean different?"

Lisa wipes her tears away, shooting Chris a smile for reassurement. At this time, Scott walks into the kitchen with a spring in his step, but once he saw the solemn look on his mom's face and the hardened expression on Chris's, Scott's face fell and his expression becomes solemn as he leans on his elbows on the counter.

Lisa and Scott share glances. Scott gives her a nod and it's all the reassurement Lisa needs to continue.

"Shortly after you moved to New York, (YN)'s mom was diagnosed with stage 3 pancreatic cancer. It was too late to do anything...and it devastated her. No matter how much of brave face she would put on and tried to be strong for her and her dad, everyone could tell it was taking a toll on her...her mom died about a month after."

Chris shook his head, a forlorn expression on his face. He stepped away from Lisa's embrace and leaned against the counter, feeling the weight of Lisa's words. You were very close to your parents so having lost one so early must've been difficult for you. He clenched his fist, angry at himself for not being there.

Lisa reached out and covered his fist with hers. With a shaky breath, she continued.

"Both her and her dad drifted apart after. They were both in pain, I think. He eventually found someone else but I don't think (YN) and her ever got along...though they seemed amicable in the beginning. At that time, (yn) was seeing somebody and moved out of Boston, and we didn't hear from her or her family for years. Until about five years ago."

Lisa trailed off, tears forming in ther corner of her eyes. She looked up at Chris and then glancing over to Scott who went rigid. Chris slowly glanced back and forth between then.

"Ma? Scott? What's wrong? What happened five years ago?"

Scott sighed and leaned away from the counter. He walked over to Lisa who was visibly shaking.

He looked Chris in the eye and with a sigh, "Five years ago, she moved back to Boston but for a different reason. Her dad and step-family check her in to a rehab center. Nobody knows why, but when she checkout, she wasn't the same (YN) that we knew."

_Rehab_? Chris stumbled back, mouth slightly agape, but Scott continued.

"I heard she was getting better after she got out of rehab, but the few times we did see her, she barely look at us in the eye, she would barely talk to us, she's withdrawn and...she's..just different now. She doesn't have that youthful energy anymore."

Lisa interjected, putting an a hand on Chris's shoulder, her eyes boring into his, her lips trembling.

"Shortly after she returned, her father died from a car accident. You know how she was...she was a daddy's girl..and having lost both her parents pushed her over the edge. She tried to commit suicide, but the paramedics got to her just in time...oh honey...I've never seen her like that before...The (YN) we all used to know and love..shes gone."

Tears welled up in eyes, his head in his hands as the weight of the guilt crashed into him.

 

  
...

 

  
It was an hour before everyone would show when Chris ventured back upstairs. He felt numb. Confused. Angry. Guilty.

He wasn't there for you.

He should've been there for you.

And he wasn't.

He closed the door to old his childhood bedroom and sat on the floor, sighing as he ran hand a hand through his hair. He felt his chest tightened. Hearing what happened to you...you didn't deserve it. Any of it. You had such a carefree soul. You were always ready to jump into a new challenge and take life head-on. Hearing what you went through and who you were today, it was unbelievable. You had always been a strong-willed teenager and hearing that you checked into rehab...it was something Chris couldn't wrap his head around.

Chris let out a shaky breath, his hands clenching into a fist, knuckles turning white. He was mad. Mad at himself.

Mad at not being there for you.

He growled in frustration, punching the plush carpet.

Never again, he promised. Never again.


	3. Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late posting, you guys! :( thank you for all the wonderful comments...again any feedback is great feedback!  
> Happy Holidays! And I hope you enjoy! :)

  
You lean against the car door window, watching the snow hit the glass as it melts and slides down in trails with a bored expression on your face. It was mesmerizing, seeing the water droplets race each other as if testing one another who would get to the bottom first. But the race was meaningless. It was just water after all. You saw your reflection in the window, and you scowled at yourself.

The apple pie on your lap warms your legs, as you fiddle with the foil that topped it. It was your father's recipe, though it was nice being able to do something productive today, baking the pie in itself had been an emotional rollercoaster. It brought back memories of you when you were younger, sitting on a barstool as you watch your mom peel the apples while your dad prepared the dough.

Who knew baking an apple pie could make you so emotional?

You had been in the middle of peeling the apples, tears welling up in your eyes as you remembered the holidays with your parents. Your step-mom had walked into the kitchen at that time with a scowl on her face, shaming you for getting your tears in the pie. She had yelled at you to get your crying in order, her scowl deepening every time you would sniffle.

The only reason why you were baking this pie in the first place was that your family was invited by Lisa Evans, opening her home to you for the holidays. When you first heard about the invitation, you had a panic attack and locked yourself in the closet screaming into a pillow. It had been years since you connected with the Evans family, ever since Chris had walked away from you that day. After coming back to Boston, you ran into them from time to time, but your relationships with the family had deteriorated long ago.

So, why now?

You chewed on your lip, your nails digging into the inside of your arm.

Chris.

In the beginning, it was difficult to not think about him. You grew up with him, did everything with him. But time eased the pain, and eventually, he was just a distant memory, tucked away in the back of your mind.

But now that you were back in Boston, it was hard to _not_ to think about him. It didn't help that his face was everywhere, on billboards, on cereal boxes, in toys...You roll your eyes at the thought. To be honest, you weren't sure what you would do if you saw him again. Would he remember you? You doubted it.

Your eyes flicker to the half moon shapes on your arm. The marks stayed there as you stroke a finger over them. It was a terrible habit, your therapist would say. She would want to know what triggered it. You dug your nail into one of them, relishing the sting.

As your thoughts drift back to Chris, you couldn't stop but wonder how he would react if he saw you.

If you saw him back in your early 20s, you would have forgiven him in a heartbeat and start talking to him again as if the years between you didn't matter. But Chris was total a stranger to you now. Not because you were bitter about what happened years ago.

No.

He was a stranger to you. You haven't spoken a word to each other in over a decade.

He was different now.

You were different now.

You scowl, bitterness and jealousy creeping in. Here he was living his dream, yet here you were stuck in a nightmare of a life.

Life must have been easy for him. But for you...

You close your eyes. You didn't want to linger on the thought. You just wanted to get through this dinner. You hoped in your gut that Chris wouldn't be there today, hoping he was stuck at the airport trying to get home or held in a movie set, or just somewhere else other than here.

You felt your chest tug at the thought of him. Maybe you deserved this. This life. This miserable life. Perhaps you didn't deserve happiness. You look down at your lap, seeing the crescent shapes on your arms and seeing the fading lines that were there.

"Remember the rules?"

Mary's grating voice pulls you out of your thoughts as you took a quick glance over at her from the corner of your eyes. She was gripping the steering wheel tightly, her knuckles turning white. It was apparent that she was stressed about bringing you, a loose cannonball, to a social gathering. You usually didn't bode well for social settings nowadays. You were unpredictable.

You reply with a short nod.

When she didn't hear a reply, she let out an irritated sigh. "Well? What are they? I'm waiting."

You went back to looking at the droplets, your voice going monotone. "Don't talk unless spoken to. Don't embarrass you. Always stay near you..."

Your words hung in the air as you trailed off, disinterested.

"And...?"

"And behave."

"Good."

You turn back to look at the window, eyes trailing the water droplets as it raced each other to the bottom.

* * *

 

  
"You nervous, bro?" Scott sneaked up on Chris, who jumped in the air, clutching his chest. Chris scowled in response.

He cleared his throat and went back to fixing the dinner plates. "Is it that obvious?"

Scott shrugged and started to place some sets down. "You know... you never mentioned what happened between the two of you. You guys were joined at the hip every time I saw you guys."

Chris's hand hovered over the silver fork, hesitating before glancing up to meet Scott's questioning gaze. "To be honest, it was so long ago I've forgotten what we fought about. I remember arguing and then walking away, but that's it. I don't remember what I said to her..."

Scott looks at him dead straight in the eyes, a dark glint in his eyes. "You're a dumbass."  
  
Chris's eyes lowered in shame.

"You know...Ma always thought you would end up marrying her."

Chris's gaze snapped to Scott, shock evident on his face. "Wh-what?"

Scott shook his head, grinning. "Yup, Ma always joked about it. Personally, I never saw it. (YN) wWasalways like a little sister to me. Seeing her the way she is now, it breaks my heart. Not to mention her step-mom makes my blood pressure soar..."

Scott trails off, placing the fork on the designated napkin.

Chris quirked a brow. "What do you m-"

The front doorbell rings, startling Chris.

Scott touches his nose and quickly walks out of the kitchen, sniggering, "No noes goes!"

Chris rolls eyes, placing the silverware down before walking towards the front door. Right as he placed his hand on the doorknob, Lisa side-stepped him and grabbed it from him. He gave his mom an incredulous look.

Lisa mouths to him, "I got this."

And suddenly, Chris understood. Scott's avoidance, his mom side-stepping him. It could only be one thing.

You were finally here.

 

* * *

 

 

  
You trail behind Mary, who sends you a threatening glare over her shoulder. Follow the rules, she mouths. Mutedly, you look down to your muddy leather boots as one foot followed the other in routine. The ground was covered in a light blanket of white, as snow steadily fell. This had always been your favorite time of year - the first fall of snow of the year. It had always been magical, especially when you were younger. As you glance up ahead, you felt your heartbeat quicken as you see the familiar front porch steps.

The porch was decorated as always, full of festive lights and hanging ornaments. You recalled to a time when you and Chris would help Lisa with putting up decorations. As you ascended the stairs, you feel the anxiety bubbling and rising from your chest, your throat tightening.The actual dinner part hasn't even begun, and already, you wanted to turn around and run. The urge to flight rising sent a shiver down your arms as your plans went clammy in response.

Even from outside, you can already hear the laughter from the children and the chatter from the guests.

_Please don't let him be here. Pleasepleaseplease._

You bring the apple pie dish closer to you, as you feel your anxiety threatening to spill over. The panic was already sinking in, and it took all your willpower to calm your mind. Mary rings the doorbell, the sound pulling you out of your thoughts. As you stand behind your step-mom, you felt comfort from hiding in her shadow as if she was some human shield.

The door opens, and you hear Lisa's warm and cheerful voice greet Mary.

"We brought some stuffing and pie," Mary replies a bit stiffly.

Lisa hums in acknowledgment, "That's quite nice of you! Have you met my son, Chris?"

Your eyes widened to saucers as time slowed.

Mary responds enthusiastically. "No! But I've seen your movies! I'm a huge fan!"

That was a lie. You could hear the sickly sweetness in her words.

"Oh! Thank you!"

His voice sent a shiver down your spine. How long has it been since you heard it? And not from some movie or interview...but actually heard it? It was so much deeper now, more mature.

You shook your head to clear it.

You had to steel yourself.

With a shaky breath, you put that familiar wall up and steel yourself.

"Have you met my step-daughter, (YN)?"

Mary stepped to the side, the porch light illuminating your frame. You slowly look up from the pie dish in your arms, and after over a decade, your eyes finally meet his.

It took all your willpower to not buckle under his gaze, to sumbit to your flight response and run. You felt naked and exposed under his scrutinity.

His eyes were so much bluer than you remembered. But everything else was the same. You see his eyes wash over form, before flickering back up to your own, surprise filling them as if he's seen a ghost, someone not real. You held your gaze steadily, looking nowhere else but his own and making sure not to give anything away. Years of shielding yourself have helped protect your emotions; it was more comfortable that way.

Chris couldn't believe that the woman in front of him was you. When Scott and his mom said that you were different now, he didn't realize how much you have changed. You were always full of energy, always ready to talk and always so cheerful.

What he saw was a stark contrast. The bags under were deep as if you've haven't had a decent sleep for a long time. Your face was pale; the youthful glow long is gone. You were now substantially thinner, your frame swimming under your dark gray coat. It was as if you could easily be blown over by the wind. Your gaze was unrelenting, challenging almost. But they were haunting.

Chris cleared his throat.

"We met a long time ago, but has been a while, hasn't it?"

Internally, you were panicking, a bead of sweat starting at the nape of your neck and suddenly, your clothes felt too constricting and too tight which made you feel suffocated. You felt everyone's eyes on you, and you felt the pressure and their judgment under their gaze. You could only nod, eyes tearing away from his and looking down to the ground, not before catching Mary's surprised gaze.

Tension hung in the air and Lisa cleared her throat to divert attention from you to her.

"Is that your dad's recipe for apple pie, (YN)?" Her voice was warm and inviting, a stark contrast to Mary's. It has been a long time since you've had a positive maternal figure and Lisa's warm presences drew you like a moth to a flame. You look up at her, and her eyes held no judgment. You felt your anxiety dissipate a little and you respond with a small smile and a nod.

Mary glances at you and Lisa, her eyes narrowing in suspicion, an action not lost to Chris. Chris watched Mary's expression with a carefully guarded face. The look on Mary's face was one filled with irritation, with one eyebrow raised and her lips, pursed. He watched with curiosity as a strange feeling fell into the pit of his stomach. Why would someone, let alone a step-mom, be irritated? With a clench of his jaw, Chris tucked that curiosity for later as a feeling of reservation towards Mary growing in the slightest.

Lisa responds by a stepping to the side and motions you and Mary into her warm house, the smell of turkey and potpourri wafting to envelop you. As you trail firmly behind her, Chris follows you behind and closes the door, his warmth radiating through your coat.

"(YN), why don't you put your coat down and we can put this wonderful-looking pie in the oven to heat up? Chris, please hang it up in the closet."

You glance over at Mary who nods her head in approval, again an action that Chris doesn't miss as he takes your coat from you, your eyes downcast to avoid his intense gaze. As you follow Lisa into the kitchen, you hear Mary strike up a conversation with Chris, his gaze still following your form as it disappears into the kitchen, unbeknownst to you or Mary.

"It has been a while, hasn't it?" Lisa turns to you slowly, as she takes the pie out of your hands, her eyes catching yours and you quickly avert it. You shyly mumble a yes and awkwardly stood in the kitchen, playing with the hem of your black sweater. She opens her oven, sliding the pie into the middle rack and then wiping her hands on her apron.

"Your dad's pie has always been my favorite. Does he put a secret ingredient in there?"

You hesitated, walking over to a barstool and sliding into the seat. "He has a certain way of preparing the apples."

Lisa hums in response as she continues to stir the cranberry sauce in the stove, she places over to you behind her shoulder, a bright smile on her face and recounts, “Well I’m glad you’re here. I can’t wait to take a bite of that pie."

Warmth spreads across your cheeks, as you hide a small smile by looking interested at your lap. Lisa’s warm aura was warm and welcoming, and it’s been years since you remember what maternal affection felt like. Your grip on the edge of the barstool tenses, your chest tightening at the thought of your parents.

Spluttering, you ask, “W-would you like me to set the table?”

Lisa turns with a questioning gaze before it changes to one of appreciation. She smiles slightly and nods her head. “Of course, honey. I would appreciate that."

You stiffen as a wave of caution washes over you. With a tilt of your head, you eye her carefully. For a moment, you didn't trust her. Was being she nice because she has always been that way? Or was it out of pity? You hated the latter. You didn't need anyone's sympathy and you narrow your eyes in response.

Lisa watches you carefully and then breaks out into a smile, reaching out and rubbing your shoulder affectionately.

"I-its been a long time since I've you, (YN). I've always you treated you as one of my own. I'm happy you're here."

Your breath catches in your throat, and the desire to reach out and hold on to her made you feel uneasy. As much as you wanted to reach over and hold her hand, you had to remind yourself that she barely out to you when you left Boston. She wasn’t there when your mom or dad died. Or when you got out of rehab. Or when you got back to Boston.

That was enough for you to steel yourself again and remind yourself that it was only for tonight.

With a clench of a jaw, you nod and tore your gaze from her in favor of grabbing the bowl of mashed potatoes and gravy before heading towards the dining room.

Lisa's eyes trail after you, a little perturbed by the lack of response but quickly brushed it off. She went back to the turkey and got everything else ready for dinner.

 

* * *

 

 

Dinner had been awkwardly quiet for you. You felt antsy, and you tried your best to hide it by the clenching and unclenching of your hands under the table. Looking down at your plate, you absentmindedly moved the mashed potatoes around. You just wanted to be back in your bed, curled around the pillow while the TV was running in the background.

You thought tonight was going to be easy.

Make pie.

See Lisa.

Have dinner.

Eat pie.

Leave.

What you hadn't counted on was seeing Chris. Years of trying to avoid him didn’t help you prepare for this moment. You felt your palm start to sweat with nervousness as you felt your heart beat speed up. It had more than a decade since you last saw him, and to be honest, after so many years apart, it felt like meeting him for the first time again.

He was a stranger to you.

He was nobody.

He wasn't the same Chris from long ago.

You weren't the same either.

You closed your eyes, feeling your heart clenching.

You were strangers.

So why did he keep looking at you as if you were still friends?

It irritated you.

However, it calmed you. Knowing that you and Chris were practically strangers again helped relieve some of the tension. It was true - after that fight years ago, he never contacted you back and you were too proud to reach out. After tonight, life would move again and he would forget about you again. You unclenched your hand, eyes narrowing when you see a sliver of red on your palm, and you wiped the blood on the side of your pants.

Suddenly the room quieted and as you look up from your potatoes, you found that everyone's eyes on you.

"Honey, (YN), we're sharing what we're thankful for. Would you like to say something?"

You glance over to Mary who had a forced smile on her face, her jaw clenched as she tilted her head to Lisa.

You bit your lip, panic settling in your chest. "I...I...I guess...I'm thankful to be here. And for my dad's pie..."

The room stayed silent as they continued to look at you, Scott's and Lisa's eyes gleaming with pity that made you look down at your lap in shame. You hated that look. It made you feel belittled.

Chris snaps his fingers, grinning, "Oh! Your dad's pies were always the best! Can’t wait to have a slice…Anyways, I guess it's my turn...I'm Thankful to be here, for having Thanksgiving with friends and family. Wouldn't want to be anywhere else."

After glancing over at this mom and reaching to grab her hand over the table, Chris turns to look over at you, sending you a warm smile. "Shall we get some pie?"

The kids around the table squealed with excitement for dessert, and you flinched, their screams setting you off.

Lisa wipes her lips on her, “Wanna help me cut and plate the pie, (YN)?”

You glance over at Mary who still has a tight lip, but nods her head anyways.

 _Behave_.

Your eyes shift from Chris to Lisa, who was already rising from her chair, noting a slight tick on her features. Was it something you did or said? You followed suit, trailing behind her as you pulled on a string on your sweater absentmindedly, scrutinizing the slight change in her features. As you pulled on the string, it quickly pulled away, your thoughts swirling around your head. Watching her back as she walked towards the kitchen, your mind flitted over to Chris and then you wondered if Lisa knew what happened between you and him.

She probably did. Chris never left things out to Lisa; they were two peas in a pod. He was a momma’s boy and he told her everything, down to every minute detail.

As you entered the kitchen, she turns slight from you, sending a glance over her shoulder, her eyes alight with genuine excitement.

"Your dad's pies have always been phenomenal. I can't wait to try them again, (YN)! It has been so long."

Shuffling behind her, you let your shoulders sag. “I don’t think I can make it as good as he does, unfortunately."

Lisa turns to you with a frown, placing a hand on her shoulder for reassurement. “I’m sure you’ll do him proud, love.”

Her hand lingered a bit longer before she squeezes it lightly, noting the slight mistiness in her eyes. She lets out a determined sigh and turns towards the over, where the pie had been warming. "We should serve it with ice-cream. I bet the kids will go crazy for it. Can you grab the ice cream from the freezer?"

You nodded at her and walked over to the freezer, opening it and letting the cold air hover over your body for a moment before grabbing the pint of vanilla ice cream.

Lisa gave you the ice cream scoop and went back to cutting the pie, sighing and mumbling something about how good it smelled.After a few minutes of cutting pie and placing a generous scoop of the cold treat, there was enough for everyone on the table.

Lisa grabs some of the bowls and you follow suit, trailing close behind her as you juggled four plates of dessert. You stiffened by the doorway when it happened.

One of the kids let out a shrill, screaming at the top of his lungs. The piercing scream reverberated around the room and some of the other kids had to cover their ears in agony. However, the boy’s screaming scared another infant, triggering the tears that trailed down her face as she wailed.

Lisa continued to walk on, but the screaming and wailing ignited the panic and anxiety as it settled over your form as if someone dunked you in cold water. You shivered as the children continued screaming. The palms of your hands going clammy as you felt your heartbeat quicken.

Relax.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

You stood there still rooted to your spot, the plates of ice cream and pie still in your now shaking hands.

As much as you tried to calm your mind and your breathing, nothing was working. It was like everything was closing in.

Chris cringed as the kid kept on screaming, he glanced up and saw you by the doorway, eyes glazed over. He furrowed his brow, a sense of protectiveness shooting up his spine and he hovered off his chair. Mary glanced over at Chris questioningly, but after she followed the line of his gaze, she frowned. Her frowned deepened once she saw the far-away look in your eyes.

Chris's eyes widened as he saw the telltale signs of a panic attack, the color draining from your face and the slight tremor in your hands.

The mother turned to the kid and hissed to stop screaming and you gasped as a memory flash behind your eyes.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

_You were screaming, tears rolling down your cheeks. You were backed into a corner, your back against the cold wall. Your eyes followed his form in fear._

_He stumbled over to you, throwing a bottle towards you as it hit the wall to your right, the alcohol splashing everywhere._

_"Stop SCREAMING!"_

_He brought his arm up and brought it down, as you closed your eyes waiting for the blow._

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

You let out a shaky sob, your eyes wide with fear. The grip on the glass plates loosened, your palms going clammy, making the glass fall through your grasp.

The glass fell on the floor with a loud shatter, interrupting everyone’s conversation as their attention now diverted to the shattered pieces of glass on the floor. You felt Chris’s gaze on you, his intense eyes unreadable.

You took a step-back, your lips trembling.

Mary stood up and harshly whispered. “(YN)!”

With a shuddering breath, you took another step back, feeling the fear seeping into your veins. The feeling was icy cold as your mind battled between the flashback and the present moment. You could smell the alcohol he had been drinking. You could still hear the ringing from his screaming. The shake started from your hands, then to your arms, and then to your whole body. It was uncontrollable. Tears pricked the corner of your eyes.

Chris watches with mild shock. You were having a full-blown panic attack in front of everybody. And your step-mom, instead of helping, was too busy yelling at you. His fists balls up in anger as his eyes wash over your form, from your trembling hands, to the paleness of your face, and to the dazed look in your eyes. You were somewhere else. Something about the screaming must have triggered a bad memory. He stood up quickly, the chair legs creaking along the wooden floor. The sudden movement caught Scott's attention, as his eyes flit over to Chris to catch his gaze. Scott quickly glances over to Mary with a slight head tilt. Chris's gaze traveled to Mary, who was now turning red in the face, fists balled up and knuckles white. Chris narrows his eyes, perplexed as to why Mary was angry in the first place.

"(YN)!"

You flinched and a sob tore from your throat. Your eyes were still glued to the boy, whose tears morphed into small sniffles as he looked up at you, eyes red from crying. Feeling everyone's eyes on you, you tear your gaze away from him and looked up to meet everyone's concerned gazes, however, there were few who looked away in embarrassment as if disgusted with your behavior.

You gasped, your voice trembling. "I'm..I'm..im...I..."

You felt the walls closing in, felt your clothes constricting you, felt the panic rushing through your viens.

Turning, you bolted towards the front door.

Somewhere behind you, you can hear Mary angry and frustrated screams as you swing the door open, bolting down the stairs and running with nowhere in mind, the darkness of the night swallowing you as small flakes of snow continued to softly fall.


	4. Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So so so sorry for the very late chapter. I was on a writer's block for a while and I wasn't sure how to best write this chapter. I tried my very best so please let me know if you see any mistakes or what not. I would love for someone to proofread this for me - I would greatly appreciate it! Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy it! Let me know what you think.

Behind you, the Evans house became smaller and smaller as you continued to run as far away from it as you could. You have been running for how long now? Five...ten minutes? However long it was, the chill was finally starting to seep into your clothes as the snow continued to fall. Still, you maintained your pace.

The small and secluded neighborhood was blanketed with beautiful white snow, untouched and pristine. Everything was serene and quiet as if the snow muffled out all the noise. The only thing you could hear was the snow crunching beneath your aching feet and your ragged breath as it came out in small white puffs in the frigid air. All you could feel was the burn in your legs as you ran, but even then it was starting to get numb from the cold.

The panic that had been hammering in your chest was slowly ebbing away as your feet slowed to a walking pace. Your chest burned from the run and from the cold air as you could feel yourself getting tired, your panic giving away to exhaustion. With teeth now clattering, you silently cursed yourself for not even thinking about grabbing an extra jacket or scarf along of the way. A slight pang of disappointment coursed through you as realized that no one was going to go after you, but a small shake of your head shoved those feelings away. Mary certainly never tried to find you during your "tantrums," as she nicely puts it. What makes you think Chris or Scott would?

Small shivers made it's way up from your knees to your fingertips, but you paid it no mind as you continued to surge forward, recognizing a small park you frequented as a child. Brushing off the snow from a park bench, you sat down with knees drawn to your chest, trying to retain some of your warmth.

As you closed your eyes and burrowed your head, You thought of Chris and his family, and how much of a mess you are. You had ruined their Thanksgiving dinner...and probably embarrassed them in front of their family and friends. A pang of guilt rang through you as your face twisted into a grimace.

What was _wrong_ with you?

You remembered a time when you were once a bubbly, kind, and warm person, but now, that person was a gone. Your hands clenched tightly into a fist. What happened along the way that made you forget who you were? Your spirit? Your drive? Your warmth? It was as if you lived in perpetual winter, your emotions a constant blizzard of uncertainty as if you could conjure a storm in an instant. When was it going to end? You wanted for the storm to be over, for spring, for a re-birth.

Around you, the wind howled as it pulls you out of your thoughts. As some snowflakes continued to melt onto your form, you became hyper-aware of how damp your clothes had become and how cold you were quickly getting. Providing your own warmth was no longer a possibility as your hands shook from the cold. You could get hypothermia if you continued to stay out in here. You needed to go back home.

You clenched your jaw. No. You weren't ready to face home yet. You weren’t prepared to see anyone yet, let alone Chris.

You let out an irritated sigh. You thought you could handle him. After all these years, he could still read you like an open book, read pass your lies, and still see you for you. You thought that after all these years not talking to him, trying to build a tough skin, it would be effortless to see him again. But seeing him tonight, it made your resolve crumble in seconds.

It wasn't hard to deny it. You missed your best friend. So so much that it ached deeply. You were supposed to be there for each other. To see each other climb up in success, to help each other through each failure...but that all disappeared years ago when you had to open your god damn mouth to him.

Tears stung at the corner of your eyes as you stood up from the bench with an irritated huff, and walked stomped over to the playground. You could feel the inner conflict battling inside of you. It would be so easy, so so easy, to just let all of your walls crumble down and let everyone back in. To let him back in. But it's what's after that scared the living hell out of you.

Walking over the swing set, you brush off the snow that had piled on the swing seat before sitting on it tentatively, delicately wrapping your icy fingers around the chain.

As you swayed on the swing slightly, you leaned against the chain and wondered if he thought about you throughout the years as you had. You wondered if he ever tried to reach out to you, or regretted that day years ago. You let out a trembling sigh, your breath instantly taking form and disappearing in a puff of white cloud. A reunion was inevitable, especially since you were back in Sudbury, but this was not you had in mind. You thought you had some time to pull yourself together.

You hope for the day the clouds part and for winter to be finally over.

 

* * *

 

 

"We have to go after her!" Chris gave a frustrated grunt as your stepmom continued to be unfazed by your behavior and looked more annoyed than worried. Chris wondered if Mary's stoic behavior was because she was used to you running away so frequently, or she honestly did not care about your well-being. It made him angry to think that nobody was in your life to take care of you genuinely, especially in your fragile state.

He walked away from Mary, who sat on the living room couch, with arms crossed and a deep crease between her brows. All of the other guests have left for the evening. It had been a decent night until now, but everyone felt too awkward to stay and had opted to go before your return.

Chris sat on a kitchen barstool, leaning on the counter as he buried his head in his hands. He had to go after you. With the snow continuing to come down hard, it was only a matter time before you could get hypothermia.

Someone placed a hand on his back in comfort and instantly relaxed at the comfort. He peeked from his hands and saw his mom with a heavy smile.

"M-mom..." Chris's voice croaked with emotion, and Lisa's eyes welled up with tears as she brought his head to her chest, stroking his hair affectionately.

She leaned onto him, resting her chin on the top of his head as she continued to rub circles on her son's back. She remembered a time where you and Chris were inseparable. She had treated you like one of her own, and it made her heart sink to know that you and her son were both in pain. "You should go look for her. I don't give a damn what Mary says...you should go."

Lisa felt Chris nod his head and released him before placing a kiss on top of his head.

To hell with it, he thought.

Chris sprinted out of his chair, quickly walking over the coat room to grab a thick coat for himself before throwing a scarf around his neck. He shifted through the coats and found yours, only to frown when he realized how flimsy and thin it was. He sifted through the thick layers and found an old blue one that Carly used to wear. Grabbing it and a beanie for you, he heard Mary clear her throat.

"You're not going after her."

Chris's eyes widened at the demand, a wave of anger rolling through him. His hold on the blue coat tightened as he continued to ignore her and shoved a pair of gloves in his pocket.

"She's just throwing a tantrum. She'll be back before you know it."

He turned briskly to her, surprising her a bit. "There is a blizzard outside, and she is missing for over half an hour with nothing but a sweater. I don't care if she's throwing a tantrum, she's going to freeze out there. If you're not going to care about her, somebody else has to!"

He brushed past her, anger boiling inside him. Mary's eyes widened in shock. How dare he! Of all people! Mary clenched her fists in anger.

"You have don't have to go and get her! She always comes back anyway..."

Mary turned to glare at him, arms crossed and teeth gritting. She watched him open the door, and he peered over his shoulder with a cold frown.

"You're supposed to be her guardian. You're supposed to protect her. But here you are...sitting and doing nothing. I don't know what kind of hold you have on her, but I swear to you it won't last long."

With one last hard scowl, he turned and closed the door leaving Mary in the hall with her mouth agape.

Around the corner in the kitchen, Lisa leaned against the wall, a proud smile spreading on her lips.

 

* * *

 

  
"(YN)!"

A puff of white air escaped Chris's lips as he half-walked, half-ran around the neighborhood to look for you. Chris followed a faint trail that started in his driveway, but the trail went cold as the snow continued to pile on.

When there was no response, Chris cursed under his breath; his hands clenched into fists inside his coat pocket. He shivered slightly when a particularly cold gust blew by. He frowned when he imagined you shivering in the cold all alone. Chris made a turn at towards the park, his eyes widening when he saw a slim frame leaning against the swing set chain.

Chris ran over, calling your name. A wash of relief went through him when you looked up in response, though he faltered when he saw your pale face. His frown, however, deepened when he saw you look away in shame.

As he comes up in front of you, you looked up at him with a confused gaze. Chris responded with reassuring smile, but it wavered when he saw the small tremble of your chin, no doubt from shivering. He pulled you into his embrace, hoping some of his body heat would warm you up as he wrapped his arms around you. Your gaze, however, was pointed towards somewhere else as if it was the most interesting thing at the moment. Feeling his warmth radiate to yours was intoxicating and you couldn't stop yourself from leaning in just a bit to feel him. His solid mass against yours. How long has it been since...?

"Everyone is worried about...here! You must be cold..." Chris swung the blue coat around your shoulders, and he saw you visibly sigh in comfort. He took the beanie from his pocket and placed it on your head, making sure to cover your ears. Next, he took the scarf around his neck and set it around yours, proud to see you now bundled up. A warm smile spread across his lips, and you silently blamed the cold for the pink in your cheeks.

You looked up at him through your lashes briefly and replied with a quiet thank-you.

"Let's go home?"

You tore your gaze from him and looked elsewhere, absentmindedly playing with the loose threads from Chris's scarf, which smelled so much like him. "I...I don't know. I’m not sure I’m ready to go back yet…”

Your voice was barely a whisper, and with the wind howling, Chis had to lean down to your ear.

"Let's walk back home slowly, at least. Sound good?"

Chris catches your gaze when he leans back and his own throat tightening when he sees your eyes glaze over. He rests his hands on your shoulders and rubs them as an attempt to comfort you.

"Hey, it's ok. No one is mad at you. Let's get you home, and get you all warmed up. Maybe with some hot cocoa? I know you like yours with lots of marshmallows. I know you can't resist that right?"

He leads you back to the direction of the house, triumphantly grinning when he saw a small tilt of your lips and with you in tow.

The rest of the walk was quiet, except for the occasional chatter of your teeth from shivering in which Chris would occasionally lean over and wrap an arm around your shoulders to keep you warm then move back to give you space.

As Chris's house came into view, you could feel yourself tremble. Your step-mom would be undeniably upset. Your pace faltered as panic rose in your chest. Chris looked back in confusion, his eyes softening when he saw the faraway look in yours.

Despite not having seen you for almost over a decade, to him, you were still beautiful. The softness of your eyes, the crease right by your mouth. You had always been so expressive and free...he missed that. But seeing you now, it made his heart clench knowing that he might be part of the reason why.

He walked over to you and crouched so that he could be eye-level with you. You looked up at him with wide eyes, heart hammering in your chest. He put one hand on either side of your face, his fingers resting on your jaw while his thumb stroke your cheek. You wanted to close your eyes and relish in the moment.

You and Chris stood there for what must have been less than 30 seconds but felt like a lifetime. He gazed into your eyes with such tenderness and care that your heart ached. For a moment, it was j

The world had faded, and all that mattered was that he was there. How you missed your best friend...you could feel the tears prickling in the corner of your eyes.

"I'm here. If you need anything, I'm here. Let me help you..."

In an instant, it felt like the air was punched out of your lungs; his words ringing in your head like an echo.

No.

He wasn't there for you before. In fact, he was the one who left. An anger that you've never felt before welled up inside, threatening to go over the edge.

If he wasn't there for you before...

...he would never be there for you now.

Chris's brows furrowed immediately when he saw a change in your demeanor. He saw your eyes cloud over and it quickly ignited with anger as you pushed him off, glaring at him. Chris's stiffened in shock, his jaw slackening as he saw your face contort from peace to rage in an instant.

With your lip quivering, you whisper harshly at him, "You're full of shit."

You turned away from him and stalked towards the front door of his house with clenched fists, letting out a sigh of relief to find the front door unlocked.

As you entered, your step mom's gaze snapped to yours. She was beyond angry. She was livid. Lisa rushed over to you, pulling you into her arms, and then greeting Chris who entered shortly after.

"I'm so glad Chris found you! We were all so worried about you."

"Some of us, at least..." Chris whispered under his breath. Luckily for him, Lisa was the only one who heard it and proceeded to prod her son's ribs with her elbow lightly.

You looked at the floor as you started to tug off the coat Chris gave you and replaced it with your flimsy one.

"I'm sorry for ruining your evening. We will be leaving now."

"Wai-"

You didn't let Lisa get a chance to reply before turning and walking past Chris who tried to catch your gaze. Mary followed you out of the door with a hardened face, her lips tight.

As the front door closed, the house quieted. Lisa looked over at Chris who was gazing out of the window.

Before Lisa could open her mouth, Chris gave a frustrated sigh as he ran a hand through his hair. "Not now, Ma...not now..."

Lisa could only sigh before seeing her son go up the stairs and hear his door shut close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed it! I actually like this one since there's a lot more alone time with you and Chris. I wonder what is going through Chris's head right now? How mad is your step-mom? I wonder if she's going to punish you. When will you and Chris meet again?


End file.
